Personal
by Red Blaze 16
Summary: "Batman made it personal by insisting on calling me Slade," he said. "Since he insists on being personal with me, I made it personal for him."
1. Personal

_**Disclaimer – Don't own YJ...etc, etc**_

Personal

By Red Blaze 16

Batman wasn't happy. Of course, that wasn't a new feeling. He wanted to be in Gotham. Batman knew that Robin was patrolling Gotham and he also knew that all the major criminals were either in Arkham or Belle Reve. Robin should have a quiet night and, if it wasn't, the boy was more than capable of handling any petty criminals that might be out on the streets tonight. The 15 year old hero had grown more confident in the last year or two. Some of that was due to working with Young Justice. Batman was proud of the young man his partner was turning into. Gotham's defender just resented having to attend the Justice League meeting, when a conference call could have handled the meeting.

It was the monthly check in meeting that the team held. Superman was leading the meeting, checking in with each team member in regards to their city: how was the crime level? Were there any puzzles or difficult areas that that hero could use another set of eyes on – Batman _never_ requested another set of eyes in his city. He had already placed his report and now he waited for the rest of the team to report.

"Flash, anything to report for Central City?" asked the Man of Steel.

"Nothing unusual," replied the team's speedster. "Actually, Central City is quiet."

Superman nodded his head and moved on. "Green Lantern?"

But just as the name passed his lips, an alarm went off in the meeting room. Quickly, Batman keyed into the system, at the keyboard located in front of him, to find out what caused the alarm. But before he could investigate, a image suddenly appeared in the center of the table. The image was a close up of a man dressed mostly in black, with an orange and black mask. The focus was mostly on the man's shoulders and head, but the team had faced this particular killer before.

"Deathstroke!" said Superman, as he stood up from his chair at the head of the table.

"Greetings, Justice League," replied the assassin, as he scanned the table.

"What do you want, Slade?" demanded Batman, as he stopped trying to figure out the cause of the alarm.

Deathstroke stopped scanning the room as his gaze settled on Batman. "Always personal, Batman," he murmured.

Batman ignored the comment, more concerned on why the killer hacked their system to contact the Justice League.

"What do I want?" asked Deathstroke, still staring at the Dark Knight. "You don't have time for me to list everything I want, Batman."

"Then why did you contact us?" demanded Superman.

Though Superman didn't react to Deathstroke's comment toward Batman, it didn't escape the Dark Knight's attention. _I don't have time?_ thought Batman. _What have you done, Slade? Or going to do?_

Deathstroke looked away from Batman and turned his gaze to the Man of Steel. Of course, the team only assumed he returned his gaze to Superman. With the mask on, the Justice League couldn't see Deathstroke's eye.

"I have...a message," replied the killer.

"I doubt you have anything to say that we'd be interested in," replied Green Lantern.

"Perhaps you won't be interested," said Deathstroke, glancing toward the green clad hero before he returned his gaze to Batman. "But the Dark Knight will be interested."

The image of the assassin readjusted. Instead of showing the killer for hire, the image showed a city. While most cities look the same, there was something about this particular city that anyone would recognize, especially when the city belongs to a member of the Justice League.

"Why are you in my city, Slade?" growled Batman, who easily recognized Gotham's dark streets and buildings.

"You're always so personal, Batman. 'Slade'. Never Deathstroke. So, I thought I would return the favor."

Again, the image changed. Instead of a view of Gotham's cityscape, the image focused on a rooftop. A figure stood on the edge of the roof, staring down into the streets below. Batman couldn't see the face, but he knew who that person was, even without the occasionally red and yellow when the cape the figure wore flapped in the wind.

"You stay away from him," demanded Batman, as he easily recognized his partner.

"Too late, Batman," replied Deathstroke. And though Batman couldn't see the man's face, he knew the killer was smiling.

The image cut out and Batman immediately rushed toward the zeta tubes. A few Justice League members also move toward the tube, prepared to argue with the Dark Knight about them going to Gotham with him.

"I know you don't like other heroes in your city," said Superman. "But..."

"Follow, but don't get in my way," replied Batman, before he stepped into the zeta tube.

…...

It took a few minutes for Batman, Superman, Flash, Green Lantern and Wonder Women to step out of the zeta tube, located in a phone booth, and into a dark alley in Gotham. Without a word, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern took to the air, while Flash sped off to check back alleys. Batman sent out a grappling hook, to run the rooftops. He recognized the roof that Robin was shown standing on. He only hoped that Robin was around that area. The faster the team could find Robin, the happier Batman would be.

The team was only in Gotham a few minutes before a page went through the communication system. Superman had found Robin. A minute after the message went out, the team gathered on the rooftop that was shown in the image earlier.

As Batman landed on the rooftop and looked toward the unconscious form of his partner, he realized what Deathstroke meant by "too late". The boy was leaning against the edge of the roof. His cape was gone. His bo staff was gone. Bruises were already forming on his face and Batman could see blood seeping from an injured shoulder. But what worried the Dark Knight was his partner's lack of consciousness.

"He's alive, Batman," said Superman, who could hear the boy's heartbeat.

Batman stepped toward the boy. In the last year, Robin had grown, but he was still a slender young man. While it wasn't as easy to pick up the boy as it had been a couple years ago, Batman could still hold his partner in his arms. Holding the youth tight against his chest, Batman could see a bump on the back of the boy's head, which was probably the reason why Robin was unconscious.

"He needs medical attention," stated Wonder Woman.

Batman nodded his head. Though he didn't want to ask for help, the Dark Knight glanced toward Green Lantern. "I need to get to the zeta tube quickly."

"Are you taking him to Mount Justice?"asked Wonder Woman.

"No,"replied Batman, as he stepped onto the green platform provided to him by Green Lantern. "Watchtower".

As he held the boy, it felt like forever before Batman arrived back in the alley. It was a tight squeeze, to fit both himself and Robin into the phone booth, but the Dark Knight refused to let his partner go. A moment later, Batman and Robin arrived at Watchtower.

 **Recognize Batman 02**

 **Recognize Robin B01**

The robotic voice continued to call out the Justice League, as Batman rushed from the room toward the medical area. A room was already prepared, by Black Canary, and quickly Batman set Robin down on the table. Since most of the League members knew who Robin was, Batman wasted no time removing the boy's mask, while Black Canary removed the red tunic.

The boy's pale chest already showed signs of bruising, but it was the puncture wound in Robin's right shoulder that worried him. The wound was still bleeding and Black Canary put a compress on the injury.

"Batman, there is some tearing around the wound's edge," stated the blonde hero.

Batman didn't reply to Black Canary. In a matter of minutes, Batman and Black Canary had Robin stabilized. With an IV in Robin's arm, and the wound stitched closed, Batman has nothing to do but wait till Robin opened his eyes.

…...

Slowly, a pair of blue eyes opened and looked around the room. His shoulder hurt. His head hurt. But he was glad to be alive. And, with a quick glance around the room, Dick knew he was safe. Though he had only been in the medical area of Watchtower once before, he recognized the room. After his team had saved the Justice League from Vandal Savage, the older team had insisted on the younger heroes being checked out medically. Maybe it was because most of the League was made up of the mentors of Young Justice and were concerned about their sidekicks or maybe it had to do with the League knowing that, while under the Light's control, they had tried to kill the younger heroes. Robin always guessed it was a little of both.

With his shoulder throbbing, Dick tried to move as little as possible. The teenager glanced around, before he settled his eyes onto the man sitting next to him. In a chair pulled up on the left side of the bed, Dick had a moment to examine his partner. While Bruce was in most of the Batman suit, the mask was pushed back and laying against the back of Batman's neck. Eyes closed, Batman appeared to be sleeping, but Dick knew better.

"Bruce?"

Slowly, Bruce's eyes opened and brown eyes met blue. In a rare display of affection, the older man placed his hand on Dick's left wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"How do you feel, Dick?" asked Bruce.

"Not feeling the 'aster," replied the teenager.

"Tell me what happened," demanded the older man.

…...

 _Earlier in the night_

Robin glanced down. The alley seemed empty. Though he had only been on the streets for an hour, he had already stopped two attempted muggings, one attempted rape, and one attempted grand theft auto. All things considered, it made for a quiet night, which was great. It was Friday night and Robin knew the rest of the team was gathered at Mount Justice. Robin wanted to be there also, but he had told Batman he would do patrols until the Dark Knight was done with the Justice League meeting.

The night would have been perfect, except Robin felt like he was being watched. The young hero didn't consider himself the paranoid type, but he felt like someone had been watching him ever since he stopped the first mugging. Sometimes, Robin would look around, but when he didn't see anything, the teenager would wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him.

 _Maybe not enough sleep_ , thought Robin, as he glanced around once more. With a sigh, the boy grabbed him grappling hook, ready to check on the next alley.

"Hello, Robin."

Robin spun around. Standing half way across the rooftop was a man dressed mostly in black. Though slim, the man was taller and more muscular than Robin. Robin didn't recognize the man, but based on the orange and black mask covering the man's face to the sword sheath sticking up over his left shoulder, Robin could guess that the man wasn't a friend.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours," replied the teenage hero, as he removed his hand from the grappling hook, leaving it on his belt.

"Deathstroke."

"I've heard of you," replied Robin, drawing out his bo staff. While the Boy Wonder hadn't recognized the man, he did recognize the name. Robin had overheard Batman mention that name before when the Dark Knight was speaking with other Justice League members. While the teenager didn't know everything about the man in front of him, he did know one thing. The man was a killer. "Why are you in Gotham?"

"To teach Batman a lesson," replied the other man, as he lunged toward Robin.

Robin dodged out of the way and moved away from the edge of the roof. Robin did best when he had room to move and fighting Deathstroke near the edge of the roof didn't seem like a good idea. The older man immediately turned toward Robin, as he tried to punch the boy. But, again, Robin found himself moving fast enough and the hit missed. Knowing that dodging the killer wasn't enough, Robin moved in, as he kicked out toward the older man's left knee. Evading the boy's attempt, Deathstroke slid passed the boy and grabbed the cape the boy was wearing. Jerking it hard, Robin found himself pulled backwards. The young hero, off balance, hit the ground hard.

"You are better than I thought you would be," said the older man.

"I'm full of surprises," replied the boy. On his knees, Robin spun his bo staff toward the older man.

Not expecting the attack, while the boy was still on the ground, the bo staff clipped Deathstroke's right shoulder. Robin flipped back onto his feet, just as Deathstroke lunged toward him again. This time, Robin knew the older man was toying with him. The attacks were coming faster and Robin was able to dodge less and less. A punch to his side, knocking some air from the hero, followed immediately by a sweep and Robin found himself back on the ground. As the teenager flipped to his feet again, Deathstroke grabbed the cape.

Prepared this time, Robin quickly released the cape's clasp, before the older man could use it to pull Robin off balance. Expecting more weight, but only getting cape, Deathstroke was thrown off balance. Robin moved in close. Quickly, he spun his bo staff around and struck Deathstroke in the face, just below his left eye.

With a growl, Deathstroke stepped in and grabbed the bo staff, jerking it from Robin's hands. While he jerked the staff away with his right hand, Deathstroke clenched his left hand into a fist and back handed Robin across the face. The blow landed hard and Robin, stunned from the force behind the attack, hit the ground. On his stomach, Robin attempted to push up and get back on his feet, but he suddenly felt the weight of the heavier man on his back. Slammed back down, Robin attempted to buck the older man off, but Deathstroke grabbed the boy's right wrist and cranked it behind Robin's back. For a moment, Robin wondered if the older man planned to break his arm and almost missed the sound of sliding metal.

Robin had only a moment to realize that Deathstroke had drawn his sword before his right shoulder flared with agony. The sword, driven through Robin's right shoulder, bit into the rooftop, pinning the young hero. Not able to hold back, Robin cried out. With the boy pinned, Deathstroke got off Robin and stood over the boy.

"This is a lesson," growled Deathstroke, as he knelt next to Robin and placed his left hand gently on the hilt of the sword. Slowly, Deathstroke pushed the handle away. With the sword still in Robin, the boy groaned, his shoulder on fire with pain.

"Batman made it personal by insisting on calling me Slade," continued the older man, as he pulled the handle toward himself. Though he didn't normally enjoy torture, Deathstroke did enjoy hearing the young hero attempt to not give in and scream out his pain.

"I gave him time," as he pushed the handle away again, "to show me the respect I deserve. By calling me Deathstroke. But the Dark Knight refused." This time, Deathstroke jerked the handle back toward him with a twist, dislodging the blade tip from the roof. Robin gasped as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "Since he insists on being personal with me, I made it personal for him."

Without further comment, Deathstroke stood and jerked the blade from the boy's shoulder. He drew back his leg and kicked Robin in the side. The boy slide across the roof and slammed into the roof ledge. His head connected with the stone lip with a loud crack. The last image the young hero saw, before his eyes went dark, was Deathstroke moving toward him.

…...

 _Back in the Watchtower medical area..._

Dick finished telling Bruce what happened, ending with him losing consciousness. For a moment, the older man said nothing, but his thoughts raced, focused on the killer for hire.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," came the young voice.

Quickly, Bruce turned away from his thoughts and looked at his adopted son. "Why are you apologizing?"

With his left hand, he waved toward his injured shoulder. "I failed."

"You didn't fail, Dick. I did," replied Bruce, as he placed his right hand on the boy's left shoulder.

"What?" asked Dick, confused. "Did he tell you he was going to attack me?"

Bruce shook his head no. "I should have realized that his ego wouldn't have allowed for me to call him by his name. I should have known that he would consider it a slight and retaliate somehow."

"Bruce?" asked the teenage hero. "How could you have known he'd go after me?"

"I promise you, Dick," replied the older man, as he ignored the question. "And I won't let this stand. Deathstroke will pay for this."

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this storyline is going to be multiple one shots. Each "chapter" will have it's own title. And...don't forget to write a review and let me know what you think. :)**_


	2. Slade

Slade

It had been nearly two weeks since Deathstroke had attacked Robin. As much as Batman wanted to keep it a secret – Batman did love his secrets – Robin won the argument about telling Young Justice about the attack. While Batman continued to blame himself, believing that he should have somehow known that Deathstroke would attack Robin, Robin knew that no one could have expected it. And if he could attack one Justice League sidekick, than he could attack the others. Once Robin had presented this idea, in front of the other League members, Batman had relented.

But Dick wasn't worried about being attacked by Deathstroke. Instead of capes and masks filling his thoughts, Dick was worried about how Wally was going to pay for all the food he had just ordered.

"Planning to feed a small army?" teased the dark haired teenager.

"Dude! That's just a snack," replied the fastest teen alive.

Laughing, Dick just looked at his best friend, Wally West, who was also know as Kid Flash. They had decided to get away from Mount Justice. Since Bruce was being a little more protective than normal, the get together had to take place in Gotham, which was fine with Wally and Dick. And since the red head was almost always hungry, Dick and Wally decided to meet at a restaurant.

The waitress had just walked away with their order. Dick had ordered himself french fries and a soda, while Wally had ordered french fries, onion rings, mozzarella sticks, and two milkshakes, one chocolate and one vanilla. Being a speedster had some benefits, but, depending on who you ask (and who had to pay for it) needing lots of food wasn't one of them.

"I should probably confess something," said Wally, as he ran a hand through his red hair.

"Do I look like a priest?" asked the younger boy, as he raised an eyebrow.

The teens were dressed in civilian clothes, since they weren't together for Team business. Both wore jeans and sneakers, but whereas Wally wore a white t-shirt, Dick wore a red one. Dick had a black baseball cap sitting on the bench next to him.

"Ummm, no," replied the red head. "But, I wanted you to know I spoke with Roy."

"How is he doing?" asked Dick. Ever since the older teen found out he was clone, Dick rarely saw him.

"Busy with trying to find 'the real Roy Harper'," replied Wally. "So, I told him...I mean, I maybe, might have mentioned Deathstroke." The red head whispered the last word as he leaned toward his friend. "And the attack."

"Did he say anything?" asked the dark haired teen.

"Just that if you need anything, to let him know," said Wally.

With a nod of his head, he glanced toward the side hallway where the bathrooms were located. "I'll be back," said Dick.

"Kay," replied the redhead. "I'll stay here and wait for the food."

With a laugh, Dick slipped out of the booth and headed toward the bathroom. As he walked by the women's room, Dick had to shake his head. He never understood gender assigned single occupancy bathrooms. Pushing open the door to the men's room, Dick stepped inside. As he waited for the door to shut, so he could lock it, he noticed that the room was fairly large, for a bathroom.

When the door was almost closed, it opened again. Standing in the door frame was an older man. His white hair was pulled back into a small ponytail and his white beard was neatly trimmed. The man was wearing a dark gray suit jacket, unbuttoned, over a pair of black pants and a black shirt. But the most unusual thing about the guy was a black eye patch, which was covering his right eye.

"Room in use," said the teenager, before it could get awkward.

But instead of leaving the room, the older man stepped into the room, pushed the door shut, and locked it. Dick blinked his eyes and wondered what to do. If he were Robin, he could handle the situation. While the guy seemed too well dressed to be the type to mug a teenager in the bathroom, this was Gotham. Nothing would surprise the teenager. But he was Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Dick Grayson didn't know how to kick butt and take names later.

"Hello, Robin."

The teenager knew he was in trouble. This wasn't going to be a mugging, but, more likely, much worse. While Dick didn't recognize the man out of his costume, the teenager had no problem recognizing the voice and the words. The same words that were spoken to him nearly two weeks ago by...

"Deathstroke!"

Smiling, Slade stared at the boy before him. One blue eye staring into two startled blue eyes. "I'm pleased that you aren't denying it."

"Would it have done any good?" demanded the boy, as he backed up against the wall of the bathroom. While the bathroom had seemed large when he first entered, Dick knew there was no where near enough room for a fight.

"No," replied the killer, aware of the teenager backing up. The killer was amused by the boy's actions. As if a few extra feet would help the the boy, if Slade decided to attack.

"How?" questioned the teen hero, wondering how the killer knew who he was.

"You remember, after our battle, you fell unconscious.." said Slade. For a moment, it looks like Dick would respond, but clenching his fist, the boy said nothing. "I removed your mask. Of course, I had it back in place before I left you on the rooftop to contact the Justice League."

"Why did you remove my mask?" demanded Dick. _If I get out of here, I have to tell Bruce. He needs to know!_

"There are so many reasons why," replied the killer, as he leaned against the locked door. Since the door was the only way in to or out of the bathroom, both hero and killer knew that the boy was trapped. "I told Batman I would make it personal. He knew my identity and now I know yours. But more importantly, Richard...you impressed me."

It wasn't often that the Boy Wonder found himself in a situation where he didn't have any idea of what to do. A killer knew Robin's real name. A killer with a vendetta against Batman. "What are you going to do now?"

"That I haven't decided," replied Slade, as he examined the boy.

Without another word, the killer straightened and unlocked the door. With a nod of his head, Slade left the bathroom. No longer having the urge to use the bathroom, Dick quickly left and found Wally, still in the booth where he had left him. The food had arrived while Dick had been gone. As Dick moved toward the table, he glanced around the restaurant, but Deathstroke was gone.

"Wally, get it to go," said the dark haired teen, as stopped at the table and grabbed his cap from the booth.

"But..." says Wally, before he looked up and saw Dick's face. "What happened?"

"I need to see Bruce now," was all the answer Dick would give.

Waving the waitress down, Wally quickly got the food boxed and bagged. Stepping out of the restaurant, Wally turned to his best friend. "How quickly is 'now'?"

"I'll hold the food if you'll run," replied the other teen.

Realizing something serious must have happened, Wally and Dick walked away from the building and down the alley between the restaurant and the store next to it. Checking for witnesses and finding it clear, Dick took the food, while Wally wrapped an arm around the younger boy's waist and ran for Wayne Manor.

…...

A few minutes later, the two boys arrived at the front door. Not waiting for Alfred to open the door, Dick threw open the door.

"My word," said the older butler. "Master Richard, where are your manners?"

"No time, Alfred," said Dick, the moment too serious to use the nickname he had for the older man. "Where's Bruce?"

"In the study," replied Alfred, noting that his young master seemed upset.

Quickly, the two boys moved down the hall and into Bruce's study. The Dark Knight himself, unmasked and sitting behind the same desk his father had sat at, put down the papers he was looking at. Wally wasn't used to seeing Batman outside of his suit. Yes, the man's son was his best friend, but the Dark Knight still intimidated the red head. Especially when he glared, like he was doing now.

"Dick. Wallace."

"Bruce..." said Dick, only to be interrupted by the older man.

"I am disappointed," replied Bruce, as his voice deepened into the voice of Batman. "In fact, I am more than disappointed. And I will inform your uncle, Wallace. To use your power in civilians clothes! What were you thinking!?"

"Bruce! He knows who I am!" interrupted his adopted son.

"Who knows?" asked the older man, finally taking note of Dick's large eyes and heavy breathing. _Something is wrong,_ thought Bruce.

"Deathstroke," replied Dick.

"What happened?" demanded Bruce.

Quickly, Dick told Bruce what had just happened, from going into the bathroom to Deathstoke entering the room and locking them inside together. As the story continued, Dick paced the floor, though he would stop and face Bruce occasionally. The dark haired teenager was so focused on telling Bruce what had happened, that it almost appeared that Dick had forgotten his best friend was in the room also.

Wally watched Dick and listened to the story. But, inside, Wally was freaking out. _Shit! Deathstroke could have killed Dick and I didn't even know he was there. Dick needed me and where was I? Stuffing food in my face!_

When Dick finished telling Bruce, the boy stopped and took a deep breath. It was almost that, now that the teenager had told his mentor what had happened, he could calm down. Reaching up with his right hand, and feeling a pull in his shoulder from the still healing wound that Deathstroke had inflicted, Dick rubbed at his hair before dropping his hand to his side.

"What do I do, Bruce?" whispered the boy, fear in his voice.

"We'll take measures to keep you safe," replied Bruce, who had already gotten up from his chair. Wally realized that, while Dick had told his story, Bruce had slowly moved from being behind the desk to standing within arms length of Dick. "I will notify the Justice League."

"We'll need to tell Young Justice too," said Wally. And for a moment, the fastest teen alive had the full attention of the two world's best detectives.

"Wally is right," said Dick, as he turned to look back at Bruce. "The team has a right to know. Deathstroke knows who I am, which could endanger them."

Nodding his head, Bruce said nothing. He walked back around the desk and sat down. "Wallace. I need to speak with Dick alone."

Not needing to be told twice, Wally glanced at Dick. Giving the dark haired boy a gentle punch in the left shoulder, Wally left the room. After the door shut, there was a moment of silence in the room before Dick's eyes widened again.

"Oh my god, Bruce," blurted out the teenager, as he stared at his mentor. "If Deathstroke knows who I am then he may know who you are!"

With a nod, Bruce steepled his fingers near his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "I know, Dick. I know."

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please don't forget to leave a review! :)**_


	3. Mort de la Jeunesse

Mort de la Jeunesse*

The night was a big success for the Gotham Museum of Art. The Wayne Foundation was responsible for the newest art exhibit, a Death of Society, which depicted art in various forms showing how modern society was killing people. Some of the art depicted literal death, while other art showed a more metaphorical interpretation. Since it was opening night, the reporters were outside the museum and interviewing people who were coming and going from the museum. Gotham's most rich and influential were present tonight, though other cities were represented on the guest list.

So, it didn't escape the notice of the paparazzi when they saw Lex Luthor enter the museum. Since he was one of the richest men in Metropolis, the reporters were interested to find out why the man was in Gotham at a Wayne event. But, less than 30 minutes later, Luthor left and he refused to stop and talk with the press.

But one arrival that got some reporters talking was when they saw Oliver Queen, the richest man in Star City, show up, not with a beautiful woman, but his ward, Roy Harper. Rumor had it that the two men weren't getting along and reporters were interested to find out why. But as much as the reporters attempted to speak with them as they entered the museum, the most the reporters got was when they both smiled for the camera and, in the case of Oliver Queen, waved.

Inside the museum, the show rooms were packed. Some were there to look at the art. They sipped champagne and examined the paintings and sculptures. But most of the guests pretended to look at the art. The real reason they were at the museum was to get close to the host, Bruce Wayne. Some of those were interested in meeting Wayne. They just wanted to say that they had met the man, which would improve their own reputations. While there were others who were hoping to get the billionaire to finance some new project.

But what surprised some of the guests was that Bruce's adopted son, Richard, seemed to want to stay near his father. When the billionaire first adopted the boy, he would stay near Wayne during these events. But, in the last couple of years, the teenager would rarely stay with his father. And, since Wayne was a famous man, there were rumors as to why. Some thought that Richard hated these parties and didn't want to have to socialize any more than needed. While others believed the teenager was more confident and didn't need his father for support any more.

With Richard standing so close to Wayne, the rumors were already flying. Some assumed the teenager was close by so his father could begin grooming him to take over. While others speculated that Wayne had caught the teenager doing something wrong and wanted to keep a closer eye on the boy. Others didn't care the reason, they just wanted the boy to leave so they could have a private moment with Wayne. Especially since the boy seemed less than happy to be with his father. In fact, the guests didn't see the boy smile until the arrival of Roy Harper and Oliver Queen.

Quickly, the dark haired teenager greeted the older teen. "Roy! I'm so glad you came!"

"I would have said, didn't have a choice, but..." replied the red head.

"But you did and you still came," replied the blond guardian, before reaching out a hand to Bruce. "Bruce."

"Oliver," replied Bruce, taking the hand and shaking it. "Glad you could make it."

"Since Roy is here, do I have to stay at your side?" asked Dick quickly, ready to be away from the crowd. He didn't need to be one of the world's best detectives to know that there were guests who wanted a private word with Bruce and they felt they couldn't have that word with Dick standing nearby.

"Stay with Harper," replied Bruce, as he glanced toward his son.

Nodding his head, Dick grabbed Roy's hand and pulled the older teenager into the crowd. The two older men watched as they disappeared into the crowd.

"How is he doing?" asked Oliver, who, as member of the Justice League, was aware of Deathstroke's recent attack.

"He's...nervous," replied the dark haired man, frowning. He could no longer see either teen in the crowd and he didn't like not knowing where his son was.

"Is that why he was by your side, even though you know he hates these events?" asked Oliver. "Shit! I hate these events."

"I'd rather have him where I can see him, since I know Wilson knows his identity," replied Bruce, as he ignored Oliver's other comment.

While across the room, Dick stepped into a less crowded hall with the older boy. "I hate these events!"

"Me too," replied Roy, as he looked over his younger friend.

After Roy found out that he wasn't the real Roy Harper, that he was a clone, he had withdrawn from almost everyone. But, when Wally had told him that Deathstroke had targeted Dick, Roy decided to keep a closer tab on what was going on in Robin's world. Later, when he heard, again from Wally, about Deathstroke approaching Dick in civilian clothes, Roy had decided to put his mission, to find the real Roy Harper, on hold. So, even though he hated the social gatherings of the rich, when he heard that Ollie was going to a museum event where Dick would be present, he decided to tag along. He wanted to see for himself how Dick was doing.

"How are you holding up?"

For a moment, the normally loquacious teenager said nothing. In fact, Roy could detect that the younger hero seemed...scared, which wasn't like Dick. Feeling awkward, the older teenager placed a hand on Dick's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze, before dropping his hand to his side again.

"Thanks for coming," said Dick, not looking at his friend. Even though Roy was one of his closest friends, he didn't want to admit that he was afraid to the older teenager.

"You said that already," replied Roy, as he glanced around the party. The archer wanted to make sure Dick was as safe as possible. Mostly, the red head saw a bunch of people who were well dressed and looking at art. When he had entered the museum, and until he had found Dick by Bruce's side, Roy had glanced at some of the art. Some looked interesting, while others he thought a 3-year-old would do a better job.

"I mean, I know you're really busy trying to find the...other Roy," replied Dick.

"You mean, the real Roy," replied the red head bitterly as he looked at the younger teen. "You know, as compared to me? The clone."

"Roy," said Dick, looking up at the older teen. He waited till he had Roy's full attention before continuing. "I know you want to find the other Roy, but you're the one I became friends with and fought beside."

"Uh huh, and don't think, for a second, that I don't know that you're trying to change the subject," said Roy, as he scanned the room again.

As he checked the room for threats, his attention stopped on an older man, dressed in a tuxedo. He had noticed the man the first time he glanced around the room. The man had been facing away from the art, but Roy assumed that the man was done looking at the painting behind him and scanning the room to find a new piece to look at. But when Roy scanned the room again, the man was still facing away from the art.

In fact, the man appeared to be looking at them. Turned, so Roy could only see the man's profile, Roy would describe the man as older, since his hair and beard were white. Roy wasn't close enough to see eye color, but he could tell that the color was neither dark nor light. If he had to guess, Roy would say blue or green.

"Dick?" said the red headed archer. "The guy over there, near the weird red and black painting, is staring. You know him?"

Trying to be subtle, the younger teenager looked over. For a moment, Dick didn't react and Roy thought the guy wasn't a problem. But the idea that the man wasn't a threat idea left Roy as he watched the normally tan youth get pale and then glare at the older man.

"Who is he?" demanded the older teenager, as he looked away from Dick and toward the older man.

The man had turned and was facing them now. And, with him facing them, Roy would see the man's black eye patch. With a smile, the man tipped his champagne glass toward them before taking a sip. Roy had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew who the man was, which Dick confirmed with his answer.

"Deathstroke."

Roy looked at Dick as soon as the boy mentioned the killer's name, but when he turned his attention back to where Deathstroke had been standing, but the man was gone. "I think we should get you back to Bruce."

Nodding his head, Dick moved into the crowd with Roy close by his side. It only took a minute or two before Dick found Bruce talking with another man. Dick and Roy saw that, while Oliver wasn't standing next to Bruce, he wasn't far away either.

"Bruce!"

"Young man, we are having a conversation," stated the older gentleman, with a quick glance toward Dick. The man was dressed in a tuxedo, like all the other men present, but he was a heavy set man, shorter than Bruce, but taller than Dick. "It's rude to interrupt!"

"Bruce, it's important," said Dick, not giving up on getting his father's attention.

"I'm sorry, Ronald, but I should see to my son. But don't worry. We will finish our conversation," replied the billionaire, patting the older man on the shoulder before taking Dick's upper arm and steering him away.

While Dick was getting Bruce's attention, Roy made sure to get Oliver's, so it wasn't a surprise when the blond joined them.

"Something wrong?" asked Oliver, glancing between the two teens and Bruce.

"He's here," said Dick.

"Who?" asked Oliver, with a frown.

"Deathstroke," said Roy, trying to keep his voice down.

"What?" said Oliver and the same time that Bruce said "Where?"

"We saw him over at that red and black painting," replied the red head, as he waved a hand in the general direction.

"Harper, stay with Dick," commanded Bruce, as he walked in the direction Roy had waved in.

The blond archer glanced at Dick. He could tell that the younger boy was shaken up, but was also trying to hide it. Oliver looked at Roy, nodded to him, before he followed Bruce. Oliver knew that Roy would protect the the boy, though he doubted that Deathstroke would make a move in such a crowded space.

It didn't take long for the two men to find the painting Roy had meant. It was a painting that Roy would have classified under "a 3-year-old could do better", since it was mostly just splattered with black and red paint with a faint outline of a figure in white. Quickly, the two men looked around, trying to spot the killer. But, when Oliver couldn't see him, he turned his attention to the painting that Deathstroke had been standing near.

"Bruce?" said Oliver, as he waved a hand toward the painting's title card.

Realizing that the killer must be gone, Bruce looked down. "Mort de la Jeunesse*," said Bruce.

"Do you think it's a threat or a coincidence that he was standing here?" asked the blond.

Bruce clenched his hand. "I don't know," said Bruce, as he looked toward his son. "But I don't like it."

...

 ***"Death of the Youth" - I don't speak French, so hopefully it's correct.**

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please don't forget to give a review! :) They keep me motivated!**_


	4. The Mall

The Mall

It was a typical all American Mall. Yes, even Gotham had a mall for the teenagers to hang out at. It was filled with different stores, from places to buy clothes to places to buy jewelry to even places to buy sporting goods. The mall was two storey, with five anchor stores. Besides the five bigger stores, there were an additional 125 stores and kiosks. And, unlike some malls in America, this mall had every spot filled with a store.

In the center of the mall, on the lower level, there was a food court, filled with a dozen different options for a meal. It was all fast food. But if a shopper was interested in more of a sit down restaurant, there were two restaurants attached to the mall. But inside the food court, you could get Asian, Mexican, subs, or even a hamburger and fries.

It was not a place one would normally see the best killer for hire, but that was where Slade Wilson, also known as Deathstroke, was located. One could say, he even dressed for the occasion. Since his normal uniform of a black suit and orange and black mask would draw too much attention, he instead wore a black turtleneck and dark blue jeans. He pretended to drink a cup of coffee – and just because the shop charged over five dollars and gave it a fancy name, did not make it a good cup of coffee – and read a newspaper. While he originally grabbed the newspaper to be a part of his attempt to blend in, he did have to smirk at one article:

 **Gotham Police No Closer to Finding Art Thief!**

A couple of weeks after the opening of a new art exhibit, a painting was stolen. The thief had only stolen one painting. It wasn't a famous painting, which was why the police were baffled. No one would get any amount of money if they sold this painting on the black market. The only reason why the painting was getting any attention was due to that the show had been funded by Bruce Wayne, Gotham's richest man. But, as much as this article amused Slade, his attention kept focusing across the food court.

Halfway across the food court, Slade watched as Richard Grayson sat down with two other teenagers. The killer had seen the red head before, at the restaurant where he had revealed to Grayson that he knew that the boy was Robin. From the red hair to the large amount of food the boy ate, Slade guessed that the boy was Kid Flash. The blonde sitting next to the red head was around the same age as the two boys. If Slade were to make an educated guess, the killer would say the girl was Green Arrow's sidekick, Artemis.

Of course, all the teens were dressed in civilian clothes. All three teens wore jeans and sneakers. The boys wore blue t-shirts. Grayson's shirt almost matched his eye color, while the red head's shirt was much paler. The girl wore a green t-shirt. The would-be heroes appeared to be sharing a plate of french fries but each had their own drink.

Slade continued to study Batman's partner. He still hadn't decided what to do about the boy. His original plan was to attack the boy, hurt him, and leave him for Batman to find, which is what he did do. What he didn't expect was that the boy would impress him. Richard had held his own against him.

At first, Slade had been easy on him and the boy had escaped all his attacks. Then, Slade increased the speed of his attacks. While Richard hadn't dodge them all, he still proved himself a good opponent. In fact, it wasn't until Slade lost his temper with the boy that the boy was outclassed.

The thought of an apprentice had occurred to Slade a few times since his original meeting with the boy two months ago. But, with Deahstroke's recent involvement with the Light, the killer didn't have the time. He knew he would have to spend many hours breaking the boy before Richard would be ready. Wasn't there a saying, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs? The boy would make an excellent heir for Deathstroke, after Slade broke him down and rebuilt him.

Another option had also occurred to Slade. He could kill the youth. The only reason he had gone after the teen was to punish Batman. What better way to hurt Batman than to kill his partner? But, whenever the thought crossed his mind, he would just remember how well the boy had handled himself. It would be such a waste to kill the boy without trying to turn him into his heir.

…...

To say that the teenagers were sharing a single plate of french fries would be wrong. It was actually three large orders of french fries that were in the middle of the table. And, it was more like Dick and Artemis were sharing one plate of french fries, while Wally was eating the other two. Wally was also drinking a large soda, since he needed the sugar as much as the food, while Dick and Artemis both had an iced tea.

"Glad you could get out of the house, dude," said Wally, as he shoved fries into his mouth.

"Me too," replies the dark haired teen. It did not escape Dick's attention when Artemis made a disgusted looked toward Wally and his lack of table manners. "Bruce has been...protective."

"That's one way to put it," replied the blonde, turning away from Wally, as the red head shoved more fries into his mouth. "I'd use the term 'control freak', but I don't live with him."

Wally started laughing. "What?" demanded Artemis.

"I'm just thinking about you living with the B Man," replied Wally, before taking a large sip of his soda.

Smiling, Dick took a fry and ate it. As he slowly chewed the french fry, the dark haired teen felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Tightening his shoulder, he quickly glanced around.

"Don't do anything stupid."

Quickly, Dick turned back to table and looked at Wally. "What?"

"I said, don't do anything stupid. You know, about your dad being so...protective," replied Wally. He waved some french fries at Dick while speaking and than promptly shoved them into his mouth.

"Do you think he's going to runaway or something?" demanded Artemis. She glanced at the red head before looking at the other boy. "I can't believe I am saying this, but I agree with him. I know you think you're all badass, but the guy cleaned your clock. You're safer with us. Or your...dad."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't plan on taking off," replied Dick. As much as the dark haired teen wanted to pretend nothing was wrong, he couldn't let go of the feeling of being watched.

…...

Slade knew the moment the boy became aware of him. The killer watched as the boy's shoulder stiffened and he looked around. The boy knew he was being watched. Slade slid the newspaper more in front of his face. Yes, it meant that the killer couldn't see the boy as well as before, but it meant Richard wouldn't be able to see him. A few minutes later, Slade could see out of the corner of his eye the three teenagers leave the food court. With a smile, he turned down the corner of the newspaper to stare at the dark haired boy.

 _What should I do with you, Richard?_ thought Slade, just as the teen left the food court.

Almost as if the hero had heard the killer's question, the dark haired teen stopped and looked back into the food court. It appeared that he was scanning the room. For a moment, Slade thought the boy had spotted him, but the teen turned away from the food court and followed his friends into the mall.

With a smile, Slade came to a decision. The killer stood from the table and walked toward a trash can to throw out the newspaper and coffee cup. With one more glance in the direction the teen had left in, Slade left the mall.

…...

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I did base my mall on a mall that I have been to in America – specifically New England area. Bonus points if you can guess which mall it is... :)**_


	5. Happy Birthday

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, the information I was able to gather says Dick Grayson's birthday is on December 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **– at least it is in Young Justice. Of course, if you go by the comic version, his birthday would be in March, but since this is a Young Justice story, I went with his YJ birth date.**_

…...

 _Thoughts_

 **Memory/Past Event**

…...

Happy Birthday

Alfred was putting the finishing touches on a small cake. It was a two layer dark chocolate cake with a sweet vanilla frosting. Alfred was in the process of placing small slivers of strawberries on the cake. The butler wanted the cake to look as good as it would taste, since it was a birthday cake.

Today was the first day of December and it was Dick's 16th birthday. A much larger party, with an even bigger cake, was planned for the weekend. But since it was Thursday and a school night, a quiet family gathering had been planned for evening. Just Bruce, Alfred, and, of course, the birthday boy. Bruce had agreed to take the night off, as Batman. So they would have a quiet dinner, eat some cake, and then watch a movie. Since it was his birthday, Dick would get to decide on the movie, which meant they were probably going to watch a comedy. Dick would also receive some of his birthday presents tonight, though the big one – a new motorcycle – the teen would get on Saturday at his party.

Just as the older man placed the final piece of strawberry, the door bell rang. Taking a hand towel, the older butler wiped his hands. Putting the towel on the counter next to the cake, Alfred left the kitchen and headed toward the front door.

"You want me to get it, Alfie?" came a voice from the dining room.

"No, Master Dick," replied the Englishman. "It is my duty to answer the door. And it is your duty to finish your homework."

Alfred could hear a quick laugh from the other room as he continued toward the door. The laugh pleased the older man. The business with Deathstroke was affecting Dick and the butler had heard the teen laugh less and less.

Before he opened the door, Alfred looked out the peep hole. A man was standing outside. Dressed in a brown uniform and holding a package, the butler examined the man for threats. The man standing outside was neither young nor old, but most likely somewhere around his late 30's to early 40's. He had the beginnings of gray hair in his brown hair, but it was mostly contained near the temple. No facial hair, the man was cleanly shaven.

Not seeing any apparent threats, Alfred opened the door. "Good evening."

"Hi," replied the delivery man. "I have a package for a..." as he scanned the package, "Richard Grayson."

"I will sign for it," replied Alfred.

Holding up the scanner, the driver handed a stylus to Alfred. Quickly, the older man signed his name. The driver took back the scanner, pushed a few buttons, than handed the package to the butler. "Have a good night!"

"You as well," replied Alfred, as he glanced down at the package.

The package was wrapped in brown shipping paper. While there was no return address, Richard Grayson's name was clearly printed on the package, along with the address for Wayne Manor. Though it felt heavy, it wasn't a large package. It was shaped like a square, a little over a foot in either direction and only a few inches thick. Tucking the package under his arm, Alfred shut the door.

Calmly, the man walked toward the dinning room. "Master Dick, it is for you."

Looking up from his homework, Dick smiled. "Maybe it's a birthday present?"

"It would seem logical, sir, since it is your birthday," replied the older man, as he walked toward Dick.

Alfred handed the teen the package and Dick wasted no time ripping it open. As soon as the dark haired teen could see what was in the package though, he set it down on on the table in front of him, which covered his books. The teen's smile was gone. He looked very serious, as he raised his eyes from the package to look at the older man.

"Alfred, call Bruce. Tell him to come home quickly."

"What is it?" replied Alfred, glancing down at the package. With the brown paper ripped away, the older man could see it was a painting. Mostly black and red with a little white, Alfred thought the painting was familiar. It only took a moment more before he finally realized where he had seen it. "My word! The stolen painting from the museum!"

"Yeah," replied Dick, though he was looking at the note that had been attached to the painting. Only three words, but they sent a chill down his spin: Happy Birthday, Richard.

The butler wasted no time in contacting Bruce.

…...

Less than thirty minutes later, the billionaire was home and looking at the painting that was still resting on the dining room table and Dick's school books.

"Should we call the police, sir?" asked Alfred, who was hovering near the table.

"Not yet," replied Bruce. The note attached to the painting did not escape Bruce's notice. "I want to take it down to the Batcave and scan it for evidence."

Putting gloves on his hands, Bruce took the painting down to the cave. For a moment, Dick debated whether he should follow his mentor or not. The teen didn't need the Batcave to tell him who had sent him the painting. Deathstroke had been seen standing near the painting months ago and then a few weeks later, it was stolen. Though Dick and Bruce couldn't prove it, they assumed Wilson had had something to do with the missing painting. Now the painting had arrived at Wayne Manor, addressed to Dick as a birthday present.

 _Mort de la Jeunesse,_ thought Dick as he remembered the name of the painting. _Death of the Youth. Is it a threat? Is this Deathstroke's way of telling me that he plans to kill me?_

Lost in his thoughts, Dick doesn't join Bruce. While it only felt like a few minutes, fifteen minutes pass before Bruce returned to the dining room. With a scowl, Bruce put the painting back on the books, exactly where Dick had placed it earlier.

"There's nothing on it."

"Meaning what?" asked Dick, as he stirred himself from his thoughts.

"Meaning, it's been cleaned somehow. No fingerprints. No markings. It's completely sterile," said Bruce. "Alfred, call the police and let them know the stolen painting has been found. Also, let the police know about the delivery company. Maybe they can track down who sent it."

The older man left the room, but not without a last look toward the teen. It had not escaped the old man's notice that the teen had been quiet while Bruce was gone. Just as the butler left the room, Bruce walked up next to Dick and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder.

"Is it from him?" asked Dick, as he stared at the painting. The note was gone. Dick assumed that Bruce kept the note when he brought the painting to the Batcave. For whatever reason, Bruce didn't want the police to have the note.

"I don't know," replied Bruce carefully.

Nodding his head, Dick felt like exploding. He knew it won't do any good, but he could feel his emotions building. Anger. Fear. Uncertainty. If it was Deathstroke's intention to keep the teen off balanced, he was doing a good job. And the teen wasn't the only one barely controlling his emotions.

Bruce was furious and very worried. He knew he couldn't prove that Deathstroke was involved with the painting. No fingerprints. No witnesses. He didn't have any proof. All he had was conjecture and circumstantial evidence. The killer had been at the grand opening of the art show that the painting had been in. The killer had also been seen standing near the painting, but that didn't prove that Wilson took the painting. Or that he had mailed the painting to Dick. Was Bruce dealing with two different threats to his son? Or was it all Deathstroke?

The killer had been stalking his son. First at the restaurant, then at the art show. Dick felt like he had been being watched at other times, but the teen hadn't seen who was watching him. Bruce's instinct was to keep Dick at home. No more Robin. No more Young Justice, until the killer's interest died away. But Bruce remembered an earlier conversation that took place on the day they found out that Wilson knew Robin's identity...

 **Dick was upset. While the teen had realized the threat he was under, it wasn't until after Wally had left the room that he realized it was much worse. Not only did the killer know who Robin was, Deathstroke probably had figured out who Batman was also.**

 **As the boy paced, Bruce had stayed quiet. He needed to figure out the best way to keep Dick safe. He would worry about himself later.**

" **I know what you're thinking."**

" **Enlighten me," replied Bruce, as the teen stopped in front of his desk.**

" **You're thinking about pulling me as Robin," replied Dick, as he placed his hands on the desk that Bruce sat at.**

" **It makes the most sense," replied the older man.**

" **Yeah, it would. And that's what we normally do. It has worked in the past, even though I hate every moment of it. But there is one problem," replied the teen. "He knows who I am, Bruce."**

" **Dick," said Bruce, but the teen interrupted him.**

" **We can't do this the normal way, Bruce. You know it. Some members of the Team know my real identity. I can spend time with those who know I'm me during my civilian time and spend time with the team as Robin. The more people that are around me, the safer I will be."**

" **Wally didn't keep you safe today," replied Bruce, glaring at the teen.**

 **The teen had seen that glare so many times, it didn't effect him like it used to. "Wally didn't know Deathstroke knew who I was. Neither did you."**

" **I don't like this," replied the older man.**

" **And you think I do?" demanded the teen.**

" **First time I feel that it isn't working, I'm pulling you as Robin," said Bruce.**

" **Agreed," replied Dick, placing a hand across the table. Bruce placed a hand in the teen's and they shook their hands in agreement.**

…Dick was right. Pulling him as Robin won't keep him any more safe than if he spends time with the other teen heroes. Today's incident demonstrated that. Normally, Bruce required hard core proof, but he went with his gut this time. He knew Deathstroke was behind the painting coming to Dick, just as Bruce thought he had been behind the original theft.

Taking his eyes from the package, he examined his son. The teen was paler than he used to be. Of course, that could be because it's winter and no one was really tan in the winter. But Dick had always been tan no matter what time of year it was. He was also noticing that there were dark circles under the teen's eyes, which told Bruce, Dick wasn't sleeping well.

Bruce was also noticing that that teen was quieter and less likely to laugh than he used to be. Bruce would still hear the teen laugh, but the happiness that just was a part of who Dick was had seemed to be missing the last couple of months. The teen had even stopped butchering the English language. Deathstroke was destroying the happy boy that Dick used to be and Bruce didn't know how to stop it. The last few months had been difficult for Dick, but it was also testing Bruce's resolve about never killing.

"My honest opinion?" asked Bruce. "Yes, I think it's from Deathstroke, but we don't have any evidence."

With a snort, the teen turned away. "I'm going to my room."

"What about your cake and the movie?" asked Bruce.

"I don't feel like celebrating, Bruce," replied the teen, as he left the room.

…...

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you didn't guess, the memory would take place at the end of Slade, the second "chapter", when Wally is asked to leave so Bruce and Dick could talk.**_


	6. Word of Honor

Word of Honor

Young Justice was on a mission. It seemed simple enough, which was why only four members had been sent. It had been quiet for a while and the team was ready to do something. Especially, Robin. Though it had been over a month since the stolen painting had arrived at Wayne Manor, the police were no closer to finding out who had sent it. Dick and Bruce still thought that Deathstroke was behind it, but they couldn't prove it. Needless to say, they hadn't told the police who they suspected. It would be kind of difficult to explain why the best killer for hire would be sending a stolen painting to a rich man's adopted son.

When it came to Deathstroke sightings, there hadn't been any in a while. While there were times when Dick thought he was being watched, the last time he had spotted the killer was at the art museum. It should comfort the teen, but it had the opposite affect. Deathstroke was good enough not be spotted, unless he wanted to be. Not seeing the killer didn't mean that Deathstroke wasn't still stalking him. Of course, there was more going on in Dick's life than just Deathstroke. Bruce had brought home a new child.

A couple of weeks after Dick's birthday, Batman had caught a street urchin trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile. Dick had been with Young Justice at the time, so he didn't get to meet the boy till he came home and found the 13 year old settled into a room next door to his own. His name was Jason Todd. And just like with Dick, the boy was an orphan. His mother had died from cancer many years earlier. So many years ago that Jason barely remembered her. Jason's father had been murdered recently, but the boy didn't know much more than that. He had been living on the streets since end of the summer. Bruce had already mentioned adopting Jason.

Dick didn't begrudge the other boy a safe home, though he did question whether Wayne Manor was safe with Deathstroke knowing their identities. But with Jason in the house, it made Dick start to think about the future. The teen couldn't be Robin, the Boy Wonder, for the rest of his life. In less than two years, Dick would be an adult. Two years could seem like a long time, but Dick knew that it could pass in the blink of an eye. It felt like last year that he had been with his family at Haly's Circus. Instead, it had been seven years since they were murdered and he came to live with Bruce.

With so much going on, the dark haired teen knew he needed a distraction. And, while the mission was important, it also provided Robin with the distraction he needed. The Justice League had contacted the Team with a mission. It was simple enough. A small team would need to investigate an area near the New York City docks. The League suspected some kind of trafficking. It was the Team's job to find out what kind.

The answer was drugs. Aqualad, Artemis, Kid Flash, and Robin had found a few warehouses scattered throughout the docks that contained multiple crates of cocaine. The drugs were mixed in with other items. Clothes. Toys. Books. The other items were a decoy, to provide a cover what was really being shipped. If you opened the container and looked inside, you'd see the decoy. But if you dug down into the crate, you found the cocaine. As the team found containers with drugs, they marked them. The plan was to call in the New York Police Department to deal with the drugs.

But, while the team checked out all the warehouses, they quickly became separated. There were so many warehouses, the team knew it would take a long time, probably all night and into the early morning, to search all the warehouses if they stayed together. Also, taking a longer time would increase the odds that the criminals who were involved with the drugs would show up. The decision to separate hadn't come easily, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, with his section completed, Robin was looking for the rest of his team.

It was early morning or very late at night, depending on how you looked at it. It was late enough that the only employees that were around the docks were mostly a skeletal overnight crew. The crew stayed at or near the office and they didn't know the teen heroes were at the docks. The first shift employees hadn't arrived yet and probably wouldn't show for another hour or two. Either way, the docks were quiet. Since there were lights only every twenty feet, it also gave the docks an eerie feeling. There were pockets of shadows and light. Normally, a quiet night wouldn't bother the teen hero. But that was before he knew he was being stalked by a killer.

Robin had just left the last warehouse that he had been in. His section of warehouses had been near the water, so as he walked back, he had warehouses on his right and open water on his left. He had just passed an alleyway between two warehouses when he realized he wasn't alone.

"Lost, Richard?"

Quickly, the teen drew out his bo staff and turned. Facing the alley, with the water behind him, Robin watched as Deathstroke stepped away from the warehouse. The killer was wearing his full costume, with the black body armor and orange and black mask. He wasn't holding any weapons, but they were strapped to his back. It had been a long time since the teen hero had seen Deathstroke fully suited, since the night the killer had attacked and injured Robin, that Robin thought it almost seemed odd to not be able to see Deathstroke's face.

"Not at all," replied Robin.

Deathstroke stopped near one of those pockets of lights. He was near enough to the light that Robin could see the man, but the dark suit helped the killer blend a little into the shadows. There was about ten feet between the killer and teen hero.

"I was having a difficult time trying to decide what do with you," said the killer. He slowly walked toward Robin. Ten feet became eight feet.

"You could start with not stalking me," replied the teen. He held his bo staff in front of his body, ready in case the other man decided to attack him.

"Stalking you?" asked Deathstroke, amusement clear in the killer's voice. He stopped walking toward the teen hero. There was less than five feet between them. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The restaurant. The art gallery. I know you had something to do with the damn painting," replied Robin, as he pointed his staff toward the killer.

"That and much, much more, Richard," replied Deathstroke, with a chuckle. "I've observed you dozens of times in the last few months. At school. In the mall. On the streets. I could see you looking around. You knew you weren't alone. You didn't see me, but you knew I was watching."

"What do you want?" demanded Robin. His voice held a combination of emotions. Frustration. Anger. Fear.

"I have a proposition for you," replied Deathstroke. "I think it will work to everyone's advantage. You. Batman. The new boy who just moved in with you."

"Don't you threaten him," replied Robin, furious. He took a step toward Deathstroke, ready to attack the killer, if he made one more statement against Jason.

Slade smiled. Robin could sense it, even though, with the mask, he couldn't see Deathstroke's face. "It wasn't a threat."

"What do you want?" demanded Robin again. Impatience could be clearly heard in the teen's voice.

"You as my apprentice," stated Deathstroke.

Shocked, Robin said nothing. At first, he wondered if he had heard the older man correctly. He had expected Deathstroke to kill him. Or hurt him again. But to want him at his side? That thought hadn't occurred to the teen hero.

"I don't want your answer now," continued Deathstroke.

Quickly, Robin overcame his surprise. "Not interested."

"Richard, I said I don't want your answer now," said the killer.

"Fine, _Slade_ , when do you want it?" replied Robin. "Because my answer won't change."

"Watch yourself, boy," stated the killer, the humor gone from his voice. His voice snapped with barely leashed anger.

"You invited me to use your first name," replied Robin. Determination could be heard in the teen's voice. "Since you've been calling me mine tonight, even though I'm in costume."

"Touché," replied Deathstoke, with a nod. The anger was gone from the killer's voice. "Very well, _Robin_ , I will give you time to consider your answer carefully."

"I don't need time," replied the teen hero.

"Oh, but you do," replied the killer. "Because you won't be allowed to refuse."

"What do you mean?" asked Robin, unsure how Deathstroke could be so sure Robin wouldn't refuse. "If you're thinking about going after my team..."

"I give you my word of honor, I will not manipulate you by using your Team against you," interrupted the killer. "Though I do not promise that they are safe from me, if they attack me."

"Then how can you be so sure I won't refuse?" asked Robin. _He mentioned Jason! Is he going to go after Jay? Oh god! I knew it wasn't a good idea for the kid to move in with us!_

"If you do not become my student, I will kill you."

Almost as soon as Deathstroke finished his threat, he jumped back just as an arrow slammed into the ground. Robin glanced up. On the roof of a nearby warehouse, Artemis was already notching another arrow.

"Back off, asshole," said the blonde archer.

"Until next time, Robin," said Deathstroke. He took out a small round item. Pressing a button, Robin could hear a loud beeping sound. Deathstroke threw the object toward the warehouse.

"Watch out, Artemis!" shouted Robin.

Realizing the danger, she jumped from the building just as the item made contact. An explosion took out part of the roof and some of the wall of the warehouse. Forgetting about the killer, Robin rushed toward where he had last seen his teammate.

"Artemis!"

"I'm ok," came the reply.

As the dust settled, Robin watched Artemis walk toward him. Quickly, the dark haired teen checked over the blonde for injuries. And, while Robin was looking her over, Artemis was checking their environment for danger.

"He's gone," said Artemis.

Glancing around, Robin could see that Artemis was correct. Deathstroke had left. He had used the explosion as a distraction to cover his escape. But, the explosion had gained the attention of others. Moments later, Kid Flash followed quickly by Aqualad joined them.

"What happened, my friend?" asked Kaldur. The Atlantean examined his teammates for injury before looking at the damaged warehouse.

"Deathstroke was here," replied Artemis. "He threatened Robin."

"Deathstrokewashere? Youok?" said Kid Flash, as he rushed around Robin, checking him over for injuries.

"I'm fine," replied Robin, as he glanced toward the blonde archer. "How much did you hear?"

"Join me or die," replied Artemis.

"What?!" yelled Kid Flash, as he stopped running around.

"We will need to inform Batman immediately," replied the team leader.

With a nod of his head, Robin took one last look around before the team departed.

…...

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I introduced Jason to the storyline, though he will only remain as a background character. In "Satisfaction" we see the image of a Robin – who had died – but we don't know much about him. So, I decided to go with his comic book background.**_


	7. Soon

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Soon

It was early March and students were coming back from winter break. Since Gotham Academy was mostly attended by the rich, the places the students went to were sometimes exotic, sometimes fun, but always warm. All throughout the day, Artemis had heard students mention the places they've been. A few classmates in her algebra class debated which countries were better in the Mediterranean. The girl, who had a locker next to Artemis', told her friend all about her week in the Caribbean, while one classmate in her physical education class had mentioned Hawaii. It was times like that that Artemis wished her family had more money.

She didn't want to seem shallow or greedy, but when the students were all talking about sun and surf and showing off tans, it made her realize just how little her family had. She wouldn't even be attending the school, if it wasn't for Bruce Wayne's donation. Through Bruce Wayne, she had a full scholarship for Gotham Academy, which included tuition, books, and her school uniform.

Of course, when she first found out he was paying for her education, she wondered why. She knew that the man liked to help out others, especially children. He was known for funding events and activities that supported children. The man had even adopted two orphaned boys. The oldest, Dick, was two years younger than her and attended Gotham Academy. Jason would be starting at the Academy next year. Since Artemis was a senior this year, it meant she wouldn't attend school with Jason. Technically, she had already met Jason, since Dick was her friend.

Artemis wasn't your typical teenage girl. Sure, she looked all American, with her blonde hair, gray eyes, and slender build. She didn't lack for boys who were interested in getting to know her better, though some tended to drift away when they realized her family wasn't made of money. She was smart and considered herself an excellent student. More importantly, she was also a talented hero.

Artemis was a member of Young Justice. After finding out that Bruce Wayne was Batman, it only made sense that Wayne would want members of the team to have the best education money could buy, even if that person's family couldn't pay for it. Actually, it made her feel better to know why Wayne was funding her education. She didn't accept charity easily, but looking out for a fellow hero was something she could accept.

But knowing that Batman was Bruce Wayne also made some of the things Wayne did hard to believe. The man was serious. All. The. Time. Yet, the news would have you believe he's a stud with the ladies, a big social drinker, and liked social events. It was the polar opposite of who Batman was. Dick assured her, he was different outside of being Batman. Artemis had never seen it, even when she had, on the rare occasion, been at Wayne Manor and saw Batman out of his costume. The first time, it weirded her out. Wally said he had had the same experience.

It was the middle of the day. The air was starting to get a little warmer, the sun was shining more, and spring was in the air, even though it wouldn't officially start for a couple more weeks. Since it was lunch time, it meant that Artemis could get outside and she wasn't alone.

"You're quiet," said Dick.

Since they were at school, both were wearing their uniforms. Artemis had on a knee length dark blue skirt, with white tights, a white button down shirt, and black vest. Over it all, was a black winter jacket. While Dick wore tan pants, a white button shirt, and dark blue suit jacket. Dick was also wearing a winter coat. Both of them were wearing a maroon tie, which was usually the first thing Artemis took off at the end of the day. Artemis' green body suit and Robin's red, black, and yellow bodysuit and cape were tucked away safely at their homes.

They were walking near the edge of the school's property. Their conversations typically involved hero stuff, so it was always better to walk away from the other students. It helped get through the day to know she had a teammate nearby. Also, with all the recent attention Deathstroke was giving her friend, she was glad someone was attending school with Dick. Someone to watch his back, even in civilian clothes.

"Just wishing I could go places. You know, for fun," replied Artemis.

"Oh, come on, Artemis. We go to a lot of fun places," replied Dick cheerfully.

"I mean, as Artemis Crock, not Artemis," replied the blonde.

"Wow, that cleared things up," snickered Dick.

"Shut up! You know what I mean," she replied, as she smacked the other teen in the shoulder.

The dark haired teen gave a quick grin. "So what did you and Wally do together last week?"

"We went to the movies and dinner and..wait! How did you know we were together?" demanded Artemis, as she stopped walking to face the teen.

"Well, I am a detective," replied Dick. "So are you two hanging out as...friends?"

"Ummm," replied the blonde, as she started to walk away.

"You're shitting me!" said the dark haired teen. Quickly, he ran to catch up. "You're dating?!"

"Ah," replied Artemis, blushing.

"Wow," said Dick, as he turned away.

"Are you mad?" asked the blonde.

The two teens stopped near the fence that ran around the edge of the school grounds. Dick leaned his back against the fence, facing the school. Artemis faced out toward the street beyond the fence, with her back toward the school.

"No way," replied the teen with a quick grin. "Kind of cool to have my two best friends dating."

With a smile, Artemis looked out through the fence. A man was standing across the street and he drew her attention. An older man, with white hair and beard, appeared to be looking at them. Even though the man wasn't doing anything creepy, Artemis got a bad feeling. She glanced toward Dick. With the other teen's back to the street, Dick hadn't noticed the older man.

"Dick, is that..." said Artemis.

"What?" asked Dick, as he turned around. It didn't take him long to see who she meant. "Deathstroke."

The killer was wearing a black trench coat. While Deathstroke's face was for all the world to see, Dick couldn't tell if the killer was wearing his costume underneath the coat or not. There didn't appear to be any bumps under the coat, to suggest that Deathstroke was carrying his sword. Of course, the killer was a weapon himself. He didn't need his sword to kill.

"Why is he here?" demanded Artemis. "He's not here for your answer, is he?"

The killer smiled at them before his hands started moving. While Artemis realized the hand gestures meant something, she couldn't tell what Deathstroke was saying. But, by the way Dick was watching, Artemis figured the other teen did know. After a minute, Deahstroke stopped moving his hands. With a nod of his head, he walked away.

"Should we follow?" asked the blonde.

"No," came the quiet reply.

"What was all the gesturing about?" demanded Artemis.

"A.S.L.," replied Dick.

"A.S. what?" asked Artemis.

"American Sign Language," replied Dick.

"'So the gestures meant something?" asked Artemis.

When Dick nodded, Artemis waited for him to tell her what the killer said. When she realized he wasn't going to volunteer, she decided to ask. "Do you know what he was saying?"

"Yes," replied Dick.

Again, the blonde waited for the dark haired teen to tell her what the man said. With a sigh, Artemis realized that Dick wasn't going to volunteer anything. "What did he say, Dick?"

"He said he would be coming for his answer soon," said Dick.

...

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: To be honest, I can't remember if Artemis knew ASL, but, for the sake of the story, I said she didn't. We're getting close to the end. Only two "chapters" left...**_


	8. No More Robin

No More Robin

The Gotham night was cold. Most of the snow was gone from the city. Another winter had come and gone. Some people did not survive the winter, while, for others, it brought new beginnings. For some, the spring reminded them of what they had lost and what they couldn't get back. While, for others, the coming spring brought happiness. A chance for new beginnings.

Even though the snow was mostly gone, the wind still held the memory of winter. The cold wind told people not to put away their winter coats just yet. But, during the day, the sun was able to warm the world and provide the reminder that the start of summer was only a couple months away. But at night, the world let the people know that winter hadn't completely left.

The night was quiet. With the exception of the wind, it would have been a beautiful night. The sky was clear and a half moon and stars light the night. Most criminals were either at Belle Reve or Arkham. In fact, there had been little need for Batman or Robin in Gotham for a couple nights. Robin had taken advantage of the quiet. He was ready.

For the last few nights, Robin had stood on rooftops alone. Waiting. He was ready to face the killer that had been stalking him since the end of summer. Robin was tired. Not the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep. But an emotional and mental kind of tired. He was tired of always having to be on the lookout for the killer. He was tired of having to second guess every decision he made. Was it safe? Would he endanger a loved one? Mostly, he was tired of knowing that, if he didn't join the killer, Deathstroke said he would kill him.

"To be honest, I am surprised."

Robin turned. Deahstroke was standing half way across the roof top. It wasn't the same roof top that Deathstroke had first attacked him on, though there would have been a sense of irony if it had been. Just as the teen hero was wearing his full costume, so was Deathstroke. The killer even wore the orange and black mask, which hid his face. The sword was sheathed on the killer's back.

"I would have thought Batman wouldn't let you out of his sight," said Deathstroke pleasantly.

The killer took a few steps forward. Deathstroke expected the teen to comment that he didn't need Batman or make some other sarcastic comment. When Robin didn't, Deathstroke frowned under the mask.

"Nothing to say?" asked the killer.

The teen's only response was to draw his bo staff and hold it at his side. Deathstroke grew annoyed. Yes, Robin was looking at him. But the boy was refusing to answer him. One thing that the killer couldn't tolerate was disrespect. Deathstroke placed his hands on his hips and stared at the teen. Robin returned his gaze.

"I want an answer, Robin," said the killer. Any trace of amusement was gone from his voice. "You've had enough time to consider the consequences of refusal."

The only thing the teen did was shift the bo staff in front of him. It allowed the teen to guard his body and be ready in case the killer attacked. Robin wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"Are you going to be my apprentice?" demanded Deathstroke. The hint of temper in the killer's voice could be heard. "Or will you die tonight?"

The teen said nothing. Furious that the teen was refusing to answer him, Deathstroke attacked. He moved in quickly and kicked out toward the teen's right knee. Robin jumped and flipped away from the roof's edge. The bo staff came around and barely missed Deathstroke's head. As Robin hit the ground, he rolled to his feet. Quickly, the teen turned to face the killer.

Deathstroke followed Robin across the roof top. The killer would strike out. Sometimes with a kick. Sometimes with a fist. Robin would evade some blows or block them with his bo staff. Sometimes the blows would land. Robin would staggered back, but the teen recovered quickly. Deathstroke wasn't making it easy. The killer was trying to hurt the teen. To punish him for refusing to answer.

"I'm tired of your silence, boy," growled the killer. Robin had just evaded his most recent attack by rolling to the side.

Deathstroke drew out his sword from the sheath on his back. He swung the sword down, coming right at Robin's face. Robin quickly put the bo staff up, to block the blow. The sword bit into the staff. The bo staff dipped from the strength behind the strike, but it held. The sword stopped only inches from the teen's face.

"If you do not answer me, I will take your silence as a refusal of my offer," said Deathstroke.

With a quick spin, Deathstroke kicked out and caught Robin in the ribs. As the teen fell back, the killer grabbed the bo staff and jerked it from Robin's hands. Before Robin could get back to his feet, the killer stepped on the teen's cape. Just as Robin reached for the cape's clasp, he stopped when he felt the tip of a sword pressed against his throat.

"This is your last chance," growled the older man. "Answer me. The only way to save yourself is to become my apprentice. You're alone. No one will come to your rescue."

"He was never alone."

Deathstroke turned. Batman was standing only a few feet away. A second later the killer stumbled. When he recovered his balance, he realized that Robin was no longer at his feet. Instead the teen was standing beside his mentor's side, with Kid Flash standing next to the Boy Wonder.

"I was wondering if you'd show up," said the killer.

"It's over," said Batman.

Even though the teen was standing between his best friend and his mentor, Robin could feel the eye of the killer on him. He knew, for Slade Wilson, it wasn't over. It would never be over, as long as they were both alive.

"I want my answer," said Deathstroke. His voice was soft. Deadly.

"You will never get an answer," said Batman. He stepped forward, partially blocking his partner. "You will never come near my son again, Slade."

"You think you can keep him safe from me?" demanded Deathstroke. He glanced quickly at the red head before returning his gaze to Batman. "Or the speedster?"

"We will keep him safe from you."

Deathstroke turned and saw the Man of Steel as he floated up. Almost gently, Superman drifted over the roof top. His cape fluttered behind him. Superman stayed a few feet over the roof and kept his eyes on the killer. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. And, though he did look down on the killer, Superman's face was blank. No one could tell what the Man of Steel was thinking or feeling.

"You made a terrible mistake going after him."

Deathstroke glanced across the roof top and saw Wonder Woman. She stood next to the roof top access. Her hand rested on the lasso, which was hooked at her waist. Other than where her hand rested and her words, Aphrodite's agent didn't make any overt threat toward the killer. Like Superman, Wonder Woman's face was expressionless.

Slowly, the roof became crowded with other Justice League and Young Justice members. Like the other adult heroes on the roof, the rest of the League didn't express any emotion toward the killer. Some would think that the adults, based on their lack of emotional response, had apprehended Deathstroke because it was their job. Deathstroke's target had had no bearing of their actions. But those people would have been wrong. They all felt too much emotion and did their best to contain it. Robin had been the first partner of any hero and many considered the teen a surrogate nephew.

The teen heroes were not as controlled and showed how much they wanted to hurt the killer for what he had done. For what he had put Robin through. Artemis stood with an arrow notched in her bow, though the arrow was pointed at the ground. Next to her, while he didn't have an arrow notched, Red Arrow held his bow tightly in his hands. Even the calm Aqualad had his arms raised and ready to use his water bearers. Miss M's fists were clenched at her side and her eyes glowed green, while, standing next to her, was Superboy. Like Superman, his arms were crossed in front of his chest, but he glared at the killer.

"So, it was a trap," said the killer, as he glanced around at the heroes.

"And you fell for it," replied Artemis.

"You may have saved him tonight," said Deathstroke. The killer knew he was outnumbered and there was no way to escape. He accepted that he was caught, but that didn't mean it was over. "But there will be other nights. I will get him eventually."

"As long as I am alive, you will never touch him," stated Kid Flash quietly. His voice was determined and confident. Like the adults, the fastest teen alive wasn't showing what he was feeling.

The killer just chuckled in response. And if he was thinking about responding, Deathstroke wasn't given the chance. Green Lantern stepped forward and put green handcuffs on the killer. Together, Green Lantern and Superman transported Deathstroke away.

Most of the League left at that point, with the exception of Batman and Flash. Some of the League used the zeta tubes to return to Watchtower or their home cities. Those who were able to fly, left the roof top and took to the skies. While the League hadn't been needed that night, their presence was a reminder to the killer: you don't mess with one of their own. Within moments, the rooftop was clear of almost all heroes, with only two adults and Young Justice remaining.

Flash slowly walked over to Kid Flash and stood with his hand on his nephew's shoulder. The scarlet speedster gave Kid Flash's shoulder a quick squeeze. He waited for his nephew to look at him. When the teen did, Flash smiled reassuringly before he looked at Batman.

"They're taking him to Belle Reve," said the fastest man alive.

Batman nodded his head at the knowledge than looked at his partner. Gotham's defender was glad that the killer had been caught, but he was still worried about his son. Robin had been very quiet for most of the night. In fact, the teen had been quiet for a long time. His jokes ended around the time the teen turned 16 and the teen seemed to talk less and less. Batman worried that the laughing boy he had adopted so many years ago was gone.

"Robin," said Batman. "It's time to go home."

"Batman, there is something I need to say," said Robin, speaking for the first time. He took a deep breath."These last few months with...Deathstroke stalking me made me realize something."

"What are you talking about, Rob?" asks Kid Flash.

The teen took another deep breath. He looked around the rooftop. His gaze paused on his friends and teammates before it focused on his partner.

"I can't be Robin any more."

…...

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope readers aren't disappointed! It's time to confess...I never planned for Dick to become Slade's apprentice. But that being said, I am already working on a sequel, but it won't come out immediately. Fall is my busy season – crafter – so it may have to wait till January/February. That being said, there is one more "chapter" before the story is finished.**_


	9. A New Hero

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: That's right – here's the final "chapter" or one shot. Thanks to all the readers and their reviews! I appreciate it – even the critiques. It helps me grow as a writer. But, that being said, I am totally happy with this story and I wouldn't change it. :)**_

…...

 _Thoughts_

 **Memory/Past**

…...

A New Hero

The night sky was clear. The air was warm and smelled faintly of summer. Or at least, it would have smelled of summer had Dick Grayson not be standing on a roof top in the middle of Gotham. It had been a year since Deathstroke first attacked Robin. He was on the same roof top that the killer had attacked him on, one year earlier. So many things had changed in that year.

Dick was no longer Robin. He gave it up the night, a few months back, when Deathstroke was caught. He had been tired of being hunted by the killer and he had suggested to Batman that they needed to draw the killer out. Make Deathstroke meet them in their terms. Originally, the plan was for Kid Flash and Batman only to be Robin's back up. Of course, once other heroes, both on Justice League and Young Justice, had found out, others wanted to be involved. The end result? A lot of heroes were present for capturing the killer. Over kill? Sure. To be fair, it was Deathstroke who first involved the Justice League. He should have expected that they would see it through to the end.

 _There is a sense of irony_ , Dick thought, as he glanced down at the new suit. _Deathstroke wanted me to give up being Robin and I did._

The first thing to go? The cape. Deathstroke had used it once too often against Robin and Dick wasn't going to have that weakness be present in his new costume. He had also eliminated the bright colors. The suit the young man now wore was mostly a grayish black. The only color in the whole costume was the blue bird on the teenager's chest and that had been an add on after he had decided on his name.

The dark haired teenager had given up his bo staff. The staff, while a good weapon, was easily taken from him. Again, Deathstroke demonstrated that with their first and last battle. Dick needed a different weapon. One that was smaller and could both defend and attack. And the dark haired teenager had found that weapon with the eskrima sticks.

The biggest change of all was the new name. For seven years, he had gone by Robin. Now, that name belonged to another. Jason, Dick's adopted brother, was now working with Batman. Jason was proving himself, though Dick did have some concerns regarding how headstrong the young teen could be. Jason also tended to challenge Batman more than Dick ever did. Given enough time, Dick was sure that Jason would be a great Robin.

Dick debated multiple names. But with every name, he knew it wasn't the right one. Then he remembered a story that Clark Kent had told him when he was a child...

" **Dick, did I tell you about the story of Flamebird and Nightwing?" asked Clark.**

 **The reporter for the Daily Planet was working in the kitchen, making a snack with the 10 year old. Bruce was in the living room, on the phone. It was rare that Bruce would bring Dick to** **Metropolis to spend time with Clark, but Dick's birthday was in a few days. Bruce had relented, but the visit would only be a single day. Bruce said it would give him a chance to visit the Wayne offices located in Metropolis. They had just spend the morning and most of the afternoon at the offices.**

 **The boy was sitting at the kitchen table while the dark haired reporter was checking on the brownies in the oven. They had made the brownie mix together, though Clark had been the one to put the pan in the oven. When Dick had said he battled criminals at night, he could handle an oven, Clark had just told the boy to humor him.**

" **Nope," replied the boy. "Is the story from Krypton or Earth?"**

" **Krypton," replied Clark, as he smiled at the boy. "And, since we have some time before the brownies are ready..."**

" **Ok," said Dick, as he smiled back.**

 **Clark leaned against the counter, next to the oven. "Flamebird was a Krptonian God. Her job was to refresh the world by burning down the creation made by her brother, Vohc."**

" **Whoa! Didn't that make him angry?" asked Dick, eyes wide.**

" **Nope," replied Clark with a smile. He checked the timer on the microwave before turning back to the boy at his table. "Actually, he was grateful to her. It allowed him to make new things. Nightwing was Vohc's friend and he wanted to meet Flamebird. When the two met, they fell instantly in love."**

" **Yuck," replied Dick, curling his lip.**

 **Clark laughed. "One day you won't think it's gross for two people to love each other."**

" **We'll see," replied the boy.**

 **The timer dinged and Clark grabbed a pot holder. He opened the oven and removed the brownies. He placed the brownies on the stove top and turned off the oven.**

" **Clark, why are you using the pot holder?" asked the boy.**

" **For safety," replied the reporter.**

" **But, the pan won't burn you," persisted Dick.**

" **And what happens, if somehow, someone saw me handle a hot pan without the pot holder?" asked Clark.**

" **Oh, right," said Dick sheepishly. "So, it's a romance? The story of Flamebird and Nightwing?"**

" **Well," replied the dark haired man. "Vohc also loved Flamebird and he was jealous of Nightwing's relationship with her. He ended up betraying them both and they were killed. So, the story is kind of sad. But, Flamebird and Nightwing would always be reborn and find each other again. So, you could also say it's a hopeful story. A story of second chances."**

" **Too complicated for me," quipped Dick. The boy looked at the brownies on the stove. "Umm, are the brownies ready yet?"**

When it was time to decided on a new name, Dick kept coming back to the story of Flamebird and Nightwing. The name of Nightwing resonated with the young man. Just like Nightwing, Dick's life had been ruined by someone else. And, like Nightwing and Flamebird, Dick had an opportunity for a second chance. A new start. So, it was from that story that Dick had taken his new identity.

Dick had created a new costume, a new name, and mastered new weapons. In fact, the only thing that remained the same was the domino mask that protected his real identity. It was the only thing he had kept from his life as Robin. He glanced once more around the city.

"Nightwing? Are you reading me?"

He raised a hand to the comm in his ear. "This is Nightwing. What's wrong, Aqualad?"

There was tension in the voice of Young Justice's leader. "Bell Reve has reported a break out. Nearly 12 hours ago. Deathstroke is among those who escaped."

For a moment, Nightwing said nothing.

"Nightwing, did you hear me?" asked Aqualad.

"I heard. Thanks," said Nightwing, before he dropped his hands and disconnected with Aqualad.

Taking a deep breath, Nightwing took out his grappling line and shot off, heading toward a new roof. He would worry about Deathstroke later.

 _He had other things to worry about than to make me his priority,_ thought the hero. _Though I know we will meet again._

…...

On a different roof top, less than a block from where Nightwing had stood, another man used the shadows to cloak himself. His dark suit blended well with the shadows. In fact, unless you knew where to look, you would miss him. He would have been completely invisible, except for the mask. Sometimes, when the light shifted, an orange and black mask could be seen. And the man's gaze was locked on the roof top that Nightwing had just been standing on.

THE END

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please see the sequel: Revenge.**_


End file.
